Backpacker

One of the crazier curveballs that parenting has thrown at me, so far, is that it keeps getting progressively more fun. I’m mixing baseball metaphors, I know, but it’s a whole different ballgame now that Emelyn will crawl half-ways across the house to sit at my feet. Newborns are lovely (I’m already a tad nostalgic), but in the last few weeks Emelyn has become an absolute hoot to be with. She’s good company.

This was a good weekend. It was just the regular rigamarole for the most part (helllooo Grafton Centre), though the three of us had some bonus fun spec’cing out backpacks. The weather is finally turning, here, so we’ve been debating whether to buy one of those child-carrier packs for our jaunts around Cambridgeshire and our upcoming Easter in Rome.

Emelyn’s reaction at being hoisted up for the first time was actually a pretty good one - her little head bobbled in almost every direction, just trying to take it all in. That said, she started whimpering a few minutes later. Suppose it was a lot to deal with, all at once. Anyhow, we tried a few more packs later on and she seemed to enjoy ‘em thoroughly. Guy at the store said most kids flat-out wail the first time they’re strapped into a pack - bet that’ll kill a sale.

Other than that, well, there’s not much to say. The Daily Grind is, once again, on a ‘coarse’ setting, but hey, Friday is already one day closer than it was yesterday…

Post location